Support
by Idiosyncratic Enigma
Summary: She stared into her coffee mug as if it would magically give her the answers she so desperately needed. Missing scene from A Bullet Runs Through It II. Catherine tries to provide the comfort and support Sofia obviously needs. Friendship fic.
1. Solitary

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own CSI. If I did, I'd have a job. :) Oh and the dialogue at the beginning comes directly from the episode, which I also do not own. 

A/N: I started writing this as a one shot, but it didn't exactly turn out that way. I hope you enjoy it anyway, and please review! It's my first CSI fic and any feedback is greatly appreciated.

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Sara's words cut into her like a knife. A departmental psychologist was not the person she wanted to speak to, and she had the feeling Sara knew it. Her response seemed so cold, so heartless. It was as though Sara didn't care about the turmoil she was going through at the moment, and the need to speak to someone who cared on a deeper, more meaningful level than a psychologist. What Sofia didn't understand was the hatred the night shift seemed to have for her. She wasn't sure what she had done to be given the cold shoulder every time she stepped into the lab. Especially from Sara. The day the two met there was some sort of unspoken competition between them, but Sofia was the one who didn't understand the rules. She didn't want to admit to anyone – not even herself – that the real reason why she switched from being a CSI to a detective was the hostile atmosphere in the lab. Yes, it had been a slap in the face to be demoted from her position, but it also served as a good excuse to get out of the lab.

Now she wished so much that she had alliances among the CSIs. Especially with every cop in the city shooting her dirty looks. She felt like she had nobody to turn to. She thought she could talk to Grissom, that he'd be open and available, but she was wrong. She wanted to tell him – someone, anyone – her fears about the outcome. She wanted to explain herself and her reasoning and get some reassurance. But he seemed to stare right through her, his face expressionless. No sympathy, no concern, no anger. Nothing. But once she got going she couldn't stop. And then Sara came in and informed her of the obvious.

"Sofia." The disdainful look she shot at Grissom did not go unnoticed by any party in the room. "You're on administrative leave."

"I know." She wasn't stupid, despite what everyone thought.

"You should not be in this building." Her words were sharp and uncaring.

Her tone made Sofia defensive. "I was just talking to a friend. If I can't talk to a friend, who the hell am I supposed talk to?"

"Any friend outside the department."

"And how many friends do you have outside work, Sara? Or maybe I should go talk to my mother – no, wait, sorry, I forgot. She's a cop, too," she snapped. She would never tell her mother anything, but she wasn't about to let Sara know that. She was fed up with Sara's attitude. She wanted to make her see that this situation was much bigger than some petty competition, or whatever the hell it was going on between them. Maybe she shouldn't be there, but what else was she supposed to do? There was nobody for her to confide in – couldn't Sara let that slide? No, of course not. On the clock, Sara Sidle was always the professional, no matter the situation.

"I can recommend a departmental psychologist," Sara said, a hint of venom in her voice. She must have noticed it when Sofia's face crumbled because her own face softened, just a little bit.

Sofia looked away, humiliated. When she thought she could speak without crying, she directed her apology to Grissom. "You're right. I'm sorry. This was a really bad idea."

He didn't say anything, didn't come to her defense. They just watched as she left his office and Sara didn't even make any effort to move out of the way.

She tried to appear calm and collected, but everything was quickly building up inside of her, and she had to get away with at least a little bit of dignity. As she turned the corner, out of sight of Grissom's office, she ducked her head and picked up the pace. When she turned another corner she ran right into Catherine, who dropped the file folder she was carrying, its contents spilling to the floor. Catherine grabbed Sofia's arms to steady herself, but Sofia pulled away and continued towards the exit. In any other situation she would have stopped and helped clean up, but not today. Not now.

"Sofia!" Catherine called as she bent down to stuff the papers back in the folder. "Sofia!" she said a little louder, just in case Sofia hadn't heard her. When the blonde didn't pause or even slow down, Catherine stood, handed the folder to one of the lab techs with instructions for it to be sent straight to Grissom, and headed off after the detective. She always placed part of the blame of the team break-up on Sofia's shoulders, even though she really had no say in the final decision. Catherine had been angry and Sofia was an easy and available scapegoat. But now, in light of everything that was going on, it seemed petty. Especially after the interview. Sofia had been so shaken up that she couldn't piece the events together. Her heart went out to the younger woman and had tried to offer her some kind gesture and the best she could do was offer a break, but Detective Ortega wouldn't allow it. He had put Sofia through the ringer, and now that she had a minute, Catherine wanted to check on her. She figured Sofia could use a friend right now, but she had been pretty cruel in the past and she wasn't sure the detective would accept the apology, despite the situation.

Sofia heard Catherine calling to her but she was not about to stop. She didn't need or want another lecture on how she shouldn't be at the lab or another "hey, shouldn't you find someone else to talk to?" She was on her way out, anyway, with plans to go straight home and drink away every last thought, every vision, of the past few days.

By the time she made it outside tears were already blurring her vision. The path to her car stretched impossibly on. She crossed the street and climbed into her car. She put the key in the ignition, but didn't start it. She could barely see; it would be reckless to drive home right now. She could hit innocent bystander and have that person's death on her conscious as well. She pulled the key out and dropped it in the cup holder.

She yanked the rubber band out of her hair, letting it fall around her face like a protective shield. She pulled the hood of her jacket up over her head and then slouched in her seat, resting her head on her hand, as the tears started to fall. She had never felt so alone before. She truly had no one to turn to.

Seconds later, she heard a knock at the passenger side window. Sofia hastily wiped her eyes, pulled down the hood, and looked up. She couldn't help but roll her eyes when she saw Catherine Willows standing there. Reluctantly she unlocked the door and Catherine poked her head in.

"I'm sorry I bumped into you it will never happen again. I'm leaving now so don't worry about lecturing me about how I shouldn't be here. I get it. I'm leaving," she said quickly, not looking Catherine in the eye. She wiped her eyes again and grabbed her keys.

"Sofia, stop." Catherine waited until the detective put the keys down before she continued. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, why not. I've already broken several rules the past few days. What's one more?" she said bitterly.

Catherine chose to ignore that comment and climbed into the car. An awkward silence settled over them. She had decided she'd come and check on Sofia, but she hadn't thought about what she'd say. What _should_ she say? Honestly, she treated the poor woman like crap over the past year. What made her think that Sofia would trust her, especially right now? Well, she was here, so there was no turning back. "How are you holding up?" she asked, hoping she sounded as sincere as she felt.

The situation was strange and uncomfortable for Sofia as well. She didn't know what to make of Catherine's gesture. Catherine had always regarded her with a cold shoulder and an eye roll, no matter what type of information she'd bring to the investigation. To say that they were friends would be a stretch. But the truth was she was so desperate to talk to someone that she would have talked to Hodges if he'd listen.

Before she could formulate a response, the demands of her body took over and she burst into tears.

It took a few moments for Catherine to respond. Over the past couple of years Sofia had never shed a tear, never laughed, never even told a joke in her presence. And now, here she was, sobbing. Sofia was an incredibly private person, more so than Sara, if it were possible. Nobody knew anything about Sofia. _That's probably because nobody ever thought to ask_, Catherine thought guiltily. She didn't know if she should touch the distraught woman or if she should just wait it out. She figured she should at least let Sofia know she had her support, even if it was rejected. She reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Sofia flinched and raised her hand for it to stop, and Catherine withdrew her hand.

Sofa was beyond embarrassed. The walls she had so carefully constructed around herself for years were falling down. And not just crumbling slowly, but collapsing all at once. Nobody had ever seen her like this. Ever since she was a young girl she had been taught to keep the "weak" emotions at bay. Her mom had her sights already set for her daughter to follow in her footsteps from an early age. She learned that it was a man's world out there, and if she ever wanted to be taken seriously she had to be tough. She had to put on a brave face and a tough exterior; otherwise the men would take advantage of her. So over the years she taught herself to hold back the tears, to hold back any visible signs of pain. And it worked. She was met with respect from the start. And now this, this changed it all. Nobody had prepared her for what she was going through. She hadn't shed a tear in front of anyone, with the exception of her pillow or a bottle of beer, in the past twenty-ish years. She had been too proud to let ex-boyfriends see how much they hurt her, and she was too proud to let her friends help. For Sofia, crying was the ultimate vulnerability and she hated to feel vulnerable. So to say she was embarrassed was a bit of an understatement. She was angry at herself for allowing anybody to see her cry, especially Catherine Willows, of all people. This wasn't her; she was supposed to be stronger than that. She covered her face with her hands and rested her head on the steering wheel. She felt Catherine's hand on her shoulder, but waved her away, not quite ready to accept comfort from anyone. She looked out her window and took several deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, Catherine. I just don't know if I can trust you. It's not like you and I are friends. I don't know if you're going to run off and tell Grissom or Ortega, or whomever, what I say to you. How do I know you aren't going to use this against me?"

"Look, Sofia, I know we started off on the wrong foot. Several wrong feet. But this ordeal, this situation, has made me realize that whatever it was I was angry at you for is not important. It's petty and stupid. When we got split up, I was so angry. The night shift is another family to me and then we got torn apart. I couldn't be mad at Grissom because he's my boss and I couldn't be mad at Ecklie because he'd fire me in a heartbeat. You were new; you came on board the same time our team was split up, so I blamed you. I know it wasn't your fault or your decision. I know that now and I knew it then. But I was so angry at the whole situation I channeled it into the most accessible person. I know it's not fair and it's a really pathetic excuse. I tend to do that. I hated Sara for the longest time when she first got here, even though all her orders came through Grissom. I guess it's just how I deal with things sometimes," she paused, unsure how to proceed. She resituated herself so she was in a better position. "I know I've done and said some pretty hurtful things to you."

Sofia nodded. She had avoided looking at Catherine the whole time, choosing to look out the window, at the dials on her instrument panel, or at her hair instead. It wasn't that she was trying to ignore what the older woman was saying. It was more so that she was afraid she'd give in and forgive her, just like that. In any other circumstance it wouldn't be so easy. She wanted to be angry and to hold a bit of a grudge. But right now she needed an ally, and Catherine was making herself available.

"Sofia," Catherine called softly, not continuing until the detective looked at her. "Sofia, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. If I could take it back I would and I know that sounds cheesy and cliché and maybe it is, but I'm serious. I wish I had gotten to know you before making a judgment. I don't know if I'd be telling you all this under different circumstances. Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes bad situations can bring out the best in people, and I do want to make things right between us. I wish it didn't take this to make me realize what a bitch I've been. Now, you can accept my apology, reject it, think about it, whatever. But it's there. And I'm here if you ever want to talk. It can be about anything, about nothing. I'm a fiercely loyal person and am the ideal secret-keeper. When you're ready to trust me, I'm a good person to trust." She paused to take a breath, letting it out slowly. "I feel like I'm trying to convince a new company to hire me," she joked, trying to lighten the mood. Sofia smiled politely, and had long since returned to the art of avoiding looking at Catherine. After several seconds passed, the silence started to become awkward once again. "Well, think about what I said. You know where to find me." She opened the door and started to get out.

"Catherine," Sofia whispered so softly that the CSI wasn't sure she'd even heard anything. It was the first time she had said anything since the older woman began her apology. Catherine sat back in the car and looked at her, waiting. She watched as Sofia struggled silently to find her words, and after several failed attempts, came to her rescue.

"Do you want to go grab some coffee?"

Sofia nodded, her eyes red and rimmed with tears.

"Come on, I'll drive. I know a place a bit farther out so we can have some privacy."

Sofia followed Catherine to her car, unsure of what lay ahead. Could she really trust her? Right now the overwhelming need to talk, to get everything off her chest, superseded pretty much anything. She didn't know what she was going to say to Catherine. She had planned what she was going to say to Grissom earlier, but now everything was all jumbled up in her head. She couldn't make sense of her thoughts. She really hoped Catherine's concern for her was genuine, because she wouldn't be able to handle much more rejection.

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_A/N2: Thoughts? comments? Would anyone like to volunteer to be my beta for subsequent chapters/stories?_


	2. Release

_A/N: Thanks to my beta, saragrissomlove, for her help!_

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Jason's Coffeehouse and Bar. It was a lot larger inside than it looked from the outside. It had low lights, tea candles on each table, and dark wood paneling. Off to the right side was a row of booths, promising privacy with their high backs. The center and left side was a mixture of tables and couches, all different and eclectic. Small coffee tables sat in between couches and were stacked with magazines. A few book shelves around the room held an assortment of board games, cards, and discarded novels. It looked like a place perfect for couples, friends, or families. 

At Catherine's request, the hostess led them to the booth in the very back corner. Catherine took a seat in the side facing the door, and Sofia slid in across from her on the other side.

A few minutes later a young girl came up to take their drink order.

"I'd like coffee please," Catherine said. The girl turned to Sofia and looked at her expectantly. Sofia met Catherine's eyes and nodded. She apparently hadn't found her voice yet. "Two coffees."

"Now, we have about twelve different selections to chose from," the girl said, leaning over and opening Catherine's menu to show her the list. She started to rattle them off when she was stopped.

"Regular coffee is fine," Catherine said pointedly. The girl blushed, slightly embarrassed, and ran off to get their drinks. She came back a few minutes later with the coffee.

"What can I get you two to eat?"

"Actually, we just want coffee for right now." Catherine squinted to read the girl's name. "Lacey?"

The girl giggled sheepishly. "No, it's actually Anna. My roommate is Lacey, she works here, but she lost my nametag when she did laundry last week and she's not working today so I'm wearing it because we get in trouble if we aren't wearing some sort of nametag but it's okay because we're like sisters anyway and I'll answer to Lacey or Anna, but my real name is Anna."

Sofia tried to suppress a smile at Catherine's stunned expression. "Well, Anna, my friend and I would really like some privacy. We have some important stuff to talk about – with no interruptions. Would it be rude if we put our cups on the edge of the table only when we needed a refill? And that would be the only time you came over here?"

"No, no. No worries. That'll work out. Only come over here when mugs are on the edge of the table. Check. Okay, well enjoy your coffee. I won't bother you; I'll be very stealthy, like a cat." With that, Anna tiptoed away.

Catherine shook her head, laughing. "I'm pretty sure I was never that perky."

Sofia smiled and shook her head in agreement. She took a sip of her coffee, relishing its odd comfort. Now that they were there, she didn't know how to broach the subject. Start with light topics and move on to the one at hand or just jump straight into it? She was the one who wanted to talk and now she could barely find the words to ask the waitress for coffee. She wanted Catherine to initiate the conversation. She almost felt afraid to talk, afraid that whatever came out would sound like gibberish and afraid that what she'd say was so close to the truth that she wouldn't be able to handle it. She stared into her coffee mug as if it would magically give her the answers she so desperately needed.

Catherine studied Sofia, watched as different thoughts and emotions played across her face. She couldn't tell if it was because she never took the time to look or if Sofia had let down her guard, but the detective was surprisingly easy to read. Hidden under her tough exterior it was obvious that Sofia was hurting, and that the hurt went beyond her current situation and the team's catty attitude towards her. She reached across the table and covered one of Sofia's hands with her own.

"You never answered my question earlier. How are you holding up?"

Sofia's eyes immediately filled with tears. She slid her hand out from under Catherine's and shoved them in her jacket pockets and leaned against the back of the booth. She closed her eyes and sighed and waited for the urge to cry had passed, otherwise they'd be there all night. When she opened her eyes and looked at Catherine, any suspicions and ill feelings about the woman evaporated. The concern in her eyes was genuine. "Not so well," she responded, her voice barely higher than a whisper. She wiped her cheeks and rested her chin against her fisted hands. She tapped her lips with her thumbs, once again waiting it out.

"Take your time, Sofia. I don't have to be anywhere for awhile," Catherine said gently. Sofia gave her a questioning look, still not ready to talk yet. Catherine hoped her answer was the one the detective was looking for. "I'm pretty sure it's okay that I talk to you. Earlier, I just had to be in the room for the questioning and to take the guns to ballistics. I'm not part of your investigation. I'm working on the suspect who got shot at the motel. They can do without me for a few hours. If I get in trouble, I get in trouble. They're not going to fire me."

Sofia only nodded, slightly surprised at her loyalty, and sipped more of her coffee. She finished and put it at the end of the table. Seconds later Anna appeared and refilled both their mugs. Keeping her promise, she said nothing as she sauntered off. "Did you always know you wanted to work in law enforcement?"

"Well… not exactly. You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"When I was younger I didn't exactly have a 'future plan.' Instead of going to college I became a dancer. I was one for years, until I got pregnant with Lindsey. I couldn't depend on my husband for a steady income, so I quit, enrolled myself as criminology student at the university, got a job at the lab before I graduated, and the rest is history."

"What made you chose criminology instead of, say, education, or nursing?"

"I had always loved puzzles and piecing things together. When I was little I would force my siblings to hide something from me and leave clues to where it was. For about five years in a row my birthday party consisted of some sort of scavenger hunt. I read mysteries and could usually figure out what was going on well before the characters in the book. I wasn't grossed out by blood. When I was researching career choices I found out what a criminalist did, and it all fell into place. What about you?"

"My mother was a cop – is a cop – and she pretty much raised me to be a cop. I wasn't interested in patrolling so I looked at other law enforcement options and found that being a CSI was interesting and more along the lines of what I'd like to do and I ended up being pretty good at it. And when the whole split shift happened, I thought it might be interesting to be on the non-scientific side of it, so I applied to be a detective…" Sofia trailed off. She didn't want Catherine to find out the real reason why she left CSI so she stuck to the story everyone knew.

"Raised you to be a cop – what do you mean?" Catherine asked.

Sofia sighed. She hated talking about her mom, about her childhood. "I don't really want to talk about it."

Catherine nodded. "Fair enough." She could only guess what Sofia meant; that her mom had her tough as nails before she reached first grade. "So… did you want to work in law enforcement or was that decision made for you?" She wasn't necessarily trying to pry; she was just trying to figure the detective out. And of course, she was curious.

"A little of both. My mother more or less told me that's what I was going to do with my life and as I got older it became what I wanted to do. The line between the two got pretty blurry."

Catherine nodded and they were quiet again for several minutes.

"Ortega thinks I did it. I know he does. What he said to me in there… he didn't say anything like that to Jim or Sergeant Adams, I know it. I could tell by the look on your face when he said it. He thinks I'm incapable of doing my job," she began. Catherine started to interject, but Sofia held up her hand, silencing her. "Please, let me just get through this." Catherine nodded and after a few seconds Sofia continued.

"Everyone at the precinct thinks it's my fault. They just assume because I'm young and a woman that I don't know how to handle a gun, that I'm some inexperienced idiot. They don't want to wait to hear the results. They just want to blame someone. They all hate me so much right now. Last night someone egged my house. This morning someone had spray painted 'cop killer' on my garage door. When I walked in the building this morning nobody would look at me. They all pretended to ignore me but then would bump into me as they walked by. This was left in my locker." She took a small, folded piece of paper from her pocket and slid it across the table. Catherine took it and read it: _We all wish it had been you instead._ She folded it back up and put it in her bag. Sofia didn't need to be carrying around this piece of paper along with everything else.

"I have never met such hatred before in my life. I feel like no matter what the outcome is, I'll always be the cop who killed a fellow cop. That they'll always look at me with disgust." A few tears trickled down her cheeks, but she didn't bother wiping them away.

Catherine took it as a sign that she had lost all hope, especially since earlier she had been wiping away every single tear the moment it fell. It broke her heart more than she could have imagined, seeing the detective so distraught. She wanted to say something, to do something, to offer some sort of comfort, but she knew Sofia wanted to get it all out with no interruptions, so she kept her hands and her words to herself.

"I keep seeing it, you know? The whole chase and shoot out. It keeps replaying in my head, over and over. And every time I see it, something changes. I don't know what changed, but each time there is some sort of minute change, and now I don't know if what I'm seeing is what really happened, or something my mind made up. I keep trying to look for answers but my mind isn't being reliable. I know I was shooting over his cover, and I know that was wrong. It was a stupid mistake, and it really destroys me that my stupid mistake could have taken his life." She paused again, her voice catching in her throat. More tears had fallen and gone unacknowledged. She drank some more coffee, her hands shaking.

"I can't stop seeing his face. Awake, asleep, eyes open or closed, it's always there. I've gone running, but he's right there at the front of my mind. I tried watching TV but his face is everywhere, on every channel. I can't get away from him. It looks like he's asking me, 'why did you do it?' Like he knew it was me. Like he was blaming me. Blaming me for ripping his family's life apart. For leaving his young wife a widow. For making her raise three children alone and never getting to meet the one she's carrying." That last part popped out before she realized what she said, and it took her by surprise. The enormity of the situation hit her with full force. "Oh God. What did I do?"

Catherine watched as the last bits of strength slipped away. Sofia pressed her face against the wall, covering the visible half with either her hand or her hair. Her whole body was shaking and she started to slowly slide down the wall to the seat of the booth. Catherine didn't waste any time moving to the other side of the booth. She slid in, her back to the rest of the restaurant for added privacy. She stroked Sofia's hair for several seconds before gently pulling her away from the wall and into her arms. She did what she could to offer the distraught detective comfort, rubbing her back and arms and resting her cheek on the younger woman's head.

When Sofia had calmed down, she sat up and used the napkins from the dispenser to wipe her face. Tears continued to spill down her cheeks, but the worst was over. She put her hands in her lap stared at them, unable to meet Catherine's gaze. She was embarrassed to have fallen apart like that, to have left herself so vulnerable.

"Hey," Catherine said, placing her hand on Sofia's shoulder. "Hey. I know this isn't easy, and I know that all this waiting is torture. But don't condemn yourself yet. I know how it must look in your head, that it couldn't have been anyone else. But you said yourself that you aren't sure what really happened. Our minds aren't always reliable. Sometimes our minds fabricate memories, fill in the voids, and make us think we're remembering something correctly when we really aren't. What you are seeing in your head might not be real."

"It all happened so fast. But he was right in front of me. I don't see how it couldn't be me."

"Well, we'll know soon enough. You may find out that you're right. But maybe… maybe you're wrong. Hold on to that."

"It's just that I –" Sofia began, but Catherine cut her off.

"No. Don't talk about it any more. It'll destroy you more than it already has if you keep dwelling on it. You've already told me how you feel and what you remember. You've cried and gotten it out of your system."

"I'm just really afraid of what's going to happen."

"Maybe nothing. Maybe something. But we'll deal with that when the time comes."

"We?" Sofia asked, disdain coloring the edges of her voice.

Catherine was a bit taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude. "Yes, we. You're expecting to go through it alone?"

"Yes. Why would you want to stay friends with a cop killer?"

"Oh come on, enough already. You should know you have my support no matter what happens. I know you're a bit weary of me, and you have every right to be. I've treated you like shit, and I know this one conversation, no matter how personal it is, isn't going to make us best friends. But it's a start, and honestly, I don't see anyone else putting herself in my position." She was about to ramble on when Sofia held up a hand, and she fell silent.

"Thank you," she said softly, still looking at her hands. Then she looked up and directly into Catherine's eyes. "Thank you." She tried to smile but was still too close from coming off of crying that it didn't work. She took another sip of her coffee and practically spit it back out.

"Cold?"

Sofia nodded.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

They started to slide out of the booth. Sofia noticed the bill on the end of the table and was reaching for it when Catherine snatched it up.

"Come on. You listened to me cry. The least I can do is buy you coffee," Sofia protested. Catherine wordlessly handed it over to her. Scrawled on the paper was a note: _Coffee's on the house. Hope everything turns out okay. Anna._ Sofia looked around for their young waitress to thank her, but the girl was nowhere in sight. So she pulled a five out of her pocket for a tip and left it on the table.

The ride back to the crime lab was quiet, but this time it was a comfortable silence. Catherine pulled into her parking space and turned off the car. "If you'd like me to be around when you find out, give me a call," she offered. Sofia nodded and managed to give her a real smile. "Go home. Relax. Try to take your mind off it. Everything will work out."

Sofia nodded in agreement and headed off towards her car. Catherine checked her messages and headed inside, preparing herself for a lecture. She ran into Grissom in the hallway.

"Catherine, where have you been? I've tried calling you several times!" Her supervisor was definitely not happy.

"I've been with Sofia."

"What!"

"Gil, she's a mess. Nobody will talk to her."

"That's because nobody should be talking to her."

"Ah, see - you didn't say that we aren't _allowed_ to talk to her."

"That's a very fine line you're walking on, Catherine."

"This investigation is tearing her apart. She just needed to talk to someone, and I'm the only one willing to listen."

"That's why we have departmental psychologists."

"Oh come on. Would you rather talk to a psychologist?"

"After the way you and the rest of the team has treated her, yes, I probably would. Besides, I didn't think the two of you were friends."

"We're working on it. I'm not sorry for doing it. It was the right thing for me to do. I didn't tell her anything about the investigation. You know I wouldn't do that. I'm not even part of her investigation. I might have had my toe on the line, but it never went across."

They stared at each other for a minute before Grissom sighed. "You know you can't keep her updated on the investigation. She'll find out from her superiors. If you speak again, no lab talk." With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Catherine let out a breath, relieved. She looked at the slip of paper that held her assignment and headed back to work.

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_Hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know any thoughts or comments.  
_


	3. Relief

_A/N: This chapter is in response to LJ's fivebyfiction writer's choice word, __**relief**_.

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The next day Catherine was examining evidence in a new investigation when her phone rang. "Willows," she stated automatically.

"Hey, uh, Catherine, it's Sofia. I thought I could do this alone, but I'm going to go in there in a couple of minutes and I don't think…"

She didn't even let Sofia finish her sentence. "I'll be right there." She closed her phone and took off her gloves and lab coat. "I'll be back soon," she said to the lab tech.

"Where are you going?"

"Important business." She made it to the station just seconds before Sofia went in. She caught the detective's eye and flashed a thumbs-up sign and an encouraging smile, and then took a seat in one of the chairs in the hallway.

A few minutes later, Sofia slowly walked out of the office, shoulders slumped and her arms wrapped around her waist. She looked up, her face red and her eyes glistening with tears. Catherine stood and walked towards her, her heart pounding.

Sofia shook her head and the tears cascaded down her cheeks. A tiny sob escaped as she whispered, "It wasn't me." She covered her face with her hands as Catherine pulled her into a hug. After several seconds Sofia returned the hug.

After a few minutes, Catherine pushed her away, still holding onto her arms. "Are you okay?"

Sofia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I will be." She looked around and sighed. "I should probably get back to work then."

"No, no. Take the rest of the day off. You deserve it." Catherine didn't want to add that the detective looked ready to collapse. "I think they can manage without you for one more day."

Sofia started to protest but was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. "Yeah. Officer Bell's wake is later today. I should probably go home and iron my uniform."

"Or rest," Catherine said pointedly.

"Or rest." Sofia agreed, and managed a real smile. Catherine patted her on the shoulder as she headed back to the lab. As relieved as Sophia was about the results, she still felt in some way responsible. Even though she had been cleared, her credibility with her co-workers had been severely damaged. It was one of those stigmas associated with partners. She wasn't looking forward to rebuilding her credibility. It was going to be difficult, but she felt like she had been given a second chance and she wasn't going to waste it.

* * *

_A/N: That's it! I hope you enjoyed it!_


End file.
